You Say You Want A Revolution
by TributeFighter
Summary: "The British are coming!" & they truly were. When Lieutenant Masen,fighting on the side of the British,arrives at Bella's doorstep as part of the Quartering Act,their strict relationship of dwellers turns into a troubled  & complicated love life. AH.1774.
1. Lieutenant Masen

A/N: This is historical fiction, and will have a heavy dose of history, so in your reviews, tell me if you like history or not, and depending on the opinions, I will see if I will have lots or little history in this :D

This story was previously published on Twilight Archives, but it's on here now, & the next chapters will be up soon!

Saturdays were usually calm days in Boston. On any normal Saturday, I'd wake up, wash up, cook breakfast for my family, and begin my daily sewing. On the occasional holiday, I'd cook up something extravagant like my mother used to do for us when my brothers and I were younger. But as the years passed, Renee became ill and could no longer do hard work.

Father never really existed to neither my brothers nor me. Renee and Charles had separated three years after I was born, something I now understand. Their fights had been constant before and even after my birth. I would've done the same if I was in my mother's shoes. I respected her decision and always would, for I never really got along with my father very well. My brothers were so dear to me. I loved them more than anything else in the world. They'd looked after me, and I looked up to them as sort of father figures. Well, of course, how can't you, when your brother is Samuel Adams, I mean, how do you NOT look up to him. Yes, I knew my brother could, most of the time, be very hard headed and stubborn, but hey, it ran in the family. He'd taking up the last name Adams as a way to protect his immediate family of public danger, and had convinced his wife, along with his cousin to do the same.

As for my other brother, Michael, well he was just Michael. But many of my friends seemed to disagree. They swooned and gushed about him constantly, something that bothered me sometimes. But at least he had the decency to do something with his life. Mom always said that he would become a pub worker or something of the sort, but she was extremely surprised when she was proved wrong. Michael was a professor and for that, I loved him even more. And as for me, well, I'm just me. Isabella Swan, born to Charles Swan and Renee Dwyer. I wasn't married, or anything, and wasn't planning on it anytime soon. The thought of marriage just outright frightened me sometimes. My fear of dedication and commitment came across as paranoia at times.

As I thought of all this, I sat in the rocking chair by my home's door, deciding staying indoors was best. After George III and his government decided to impose all these stupid taxes, I decided cutting back was going to be my only option. I started humming lightly and before I knew it, I was singing a whole song. Abruptly, my singing stopped, and I realized why: someone was at the door. I rushed to put away all my sewing materials before anyone could come into the house. I put the green shawl giving to me by Sam's wife, Abigail, over my shoulders, and opened the door.

The door swung open under my hold, and standing there was a soldier. A soldier, of all people. I racked my brain for a sensible explanation for why a soldier was standing outside my doorstep. On a freezing November morning. On a Saturday morning, out of all the days on the calendar.

"Hello, ma'am," was the only thing that came out of his perfect mouth. His rare accent sounded like a mix of British English, and American English, something I'd never heard before. He carried only a rifle, a small, worn suitcase, and himself. His beautiful self. His grey helmet only made wisps of his hair viewable, but enough to tantalize me. It was the color of the sunset, the color of in between yellow and orange, but a rich one at that. Almost golden. His firm jaw was one of strength and age, for he seemed old enough to have enlisted in the army.

But what caught me the most of this sight was that yes, he was in a grey uniform— one I'd never seen before— but if you looked close enough, as I was doing now, you could see small flashes of red. It was as if he'd been wearing a Redcoat's uniform but covered it up with anything resembling grey like dust or powder, maybe even paint. That puzzled me deeply, but not enough to question his being here yet.

I would've expected the tax collector, or maybe even my mom's sister-in-law. But no, standing in front of me was a soldier, a soldier unlike any I'd seen before.

A/N:

So? What do you think? Review, and let me know…anything you liked/disliked, anything about the story, & how you think the story should follow.


	2. Assignment

I stood blankly at the door, waiting for either the world to combust or a reasonable explanation for the soldier at my doorstep. His eyes held the curious words he would soon ask.  
"Are there any rooms available, ma'am?" The hazing in my mind recovered by a small amount when his words registered.

"Pardon?" My question seemed only appropriate at the moment. _Why would he ask about rooms? But most importantly, if any were available._

"Rooms, ma'am. As in, an appropriate place to sleep in, dwell, live in…?" His rare accent still overshadowed his tone, the tone of irritation, or perhaps frustration. My slight hesitation resulted in a rolling of his eyes, and his hand going through the unkempt rumple of hair he had. It seemed this was a reflex.

"I do apologize for having bothered you on this fine afternoon, ma'am. I apologize, I realize you must not have any more living space. Good day." Before I could realize that he was walking away, it came to me…a quick, yet important realization.

_I picked up the weekly newsletter delivered by Tom and stared blankly at it, as always. But something in the headline caught my eye:_

**CITIZENS TO QUARTER SOLDIERS!**

"…_regardless if it's the Continental Army or the British troops…"_

"… _citizens must now house, feed, and ensure the comfort of millions of troops…"  
"_WARNING_: This could be you."_

"…_could start taking place as early as _

In milliseconds, astonished by the realization, I walked out my house to reach the soldier. He walked with a slight limp to his right leg, something only a bit noticeable.

"Officer!" I exclaimed, out of breath, when I caught up with him by a few inches. He slowed down, and eventually turned his full attention to me. He opened his lips, but no words came out. Warily, I took the chance to ask if of his position.

"Sir, if I may, what is your position?" His face went from a previous open sight to a taut and cold one. "I am Lieutenant Masen, ma'am." By this point, I realized we hadn't shared proper greetings. "Oh, Lieutenant Masen, forgive me, my name is Isabella Swan." He began nodding before I let him know my name. "I've been told, Ms. Swan."

I raised an eyebrow in suspicion and wondered as to why he'd know my name. "You must be thinking why I know your name, ma'am. Trust me when I say I'm not a stalker, I haven't been following you around, trust me." From the little time I'd spent with him, I realized he was annoyingly intuitional. Almost as if he'd be a self-proclaimed know-it-all.

"Then, why—"

"—I was assigned to your dwelling, ma'am." A little too fast, perhaps? "You see, the British government recently passed the Quartering Act—"

"—yes, I know all about it, but you were _assigned _here? To my home?"

_Assignments_? That _hadn't been in the newsletter._

With this last bit of information, I realized he not only annoyed me with his knowledge, but also managed to annoy me with his interruptions.


	3. Lady Georgiana FitzRoy

EPOV

* * *

As I set the only thing I brought with me down, I breathed in. Relief swept through me like air, and it swallowed me. After Isabella had simply let me in her home without the expected questionnaire, it seemed like I would finally be all right. It seemed as if the incident with Tanya was gone, forever buried feet below the ground as surely as him dead. The haunting thoughts I'd had lately revolved around her, my only love.

The love which I was sure to have married. The love which makes my heart ache for unbearably. The love which became uninterested, the love which faded. She'd deceived me in ways unimaginable, and what killed me the most was that it all occurred right under my nose, under my supervision. I was a complete and utter imbecile for not seeing the gestures, the signs, all of it…

"_Edward, darling, I'll be having tea with Susan this afternoon," I heard Tanya say through the door. I sat reading a book as she called to me, and I simply nodded. "Of course dear." Susan was Tanya's closest friend. They'd known each other since their primary education, and were close as ever, for Susan's marriage was approaching. I took this as a small gathering, and nothing else. But as the hours dragged on, nightfall came, and Tanya had not yet arrived. I shut the book, and started roaming the halls of the gigantic mansion. Thomas, the butler, had retreated to his living quarters minutes before, and following an extensive search of the first floor, I went up the grand staircase in hopes of perhaps finding Tanya there. _

To this day, I wish I'd stayed downstairs and finished my book, or went to bed without word from Tanya. I wish I'd never opened the second door on the right on the second floor…

_I decided a door-to-door search would be most effective and so began my search. As I was reaching the second door, I heard a slight giggle coming from behind it. "Stop it, William, stop it." William? The only William I seem to have recalled was William the gardener. What was he doing upstairs? With a woman? That'd definitely been a woman's laugh. It sounded familiar. Too familiar, in fact. With thoughts on how I would fire William in my mind, I passed the threshold of the second room into an image I would rather put out of my mind completely..._

That haunting image has followed me around everywhere. Since I first saw her with that… that imbecile! I peeked only slightly into that room, the dim light only allowing me to do so before I backed out, gasping for air. Initially, I'd tried convincing myself that it wasn't Tanya in that room, on that night. But the images swirling around in my head were not lying to me. It had been Tanya, that night, with William.

It wasn't her betrayal that hurt the most. It'd been William. William, who I'd known since I was a wee boy. Of course, he and I were never close, but the fact that everything happened right under my nose: It killed me. But I believe it doesn't hurt as much as the reason as to why I ended at this home. I was never one to think things through. I was impetuous, and at times, very hasty in the way I did things. That bastard had no idea what was in store for him. I killed William. William, the gardener. William, whose smile didn't hurt the eyes. He was a friend of mines. But no friend ever beds your wife.

William, to everyone's surprise, was a close friend of Lady Georgiana FitzRoy. And although I, nor anyone from Tanya's family, personally knew Lady Georgiana, or her father, Augustus FitzRoy, they came after me. First began the questioning. And endless amount of questions were hurled at me in the downstairs drawing room. A detective investigating the case always looked questioningly at me. He knew all along that it'd been me who murdered William. Yet, he never seemed to ask why; if he did in fact know that it was me. After four days of questioning from the detective, I couldn't handle it any longer. Tanya wouldn't speak to me, although she never found out that I'd caught her sleeping with William. She couldn't fathom who murdered him, and for what reason. As she cried in my arms the fifth day after his murder, my resolve was set in stone. Her weeping left no mercy in me, for she wept for the man who'd betrayed me. And having her in my arms only reminded me more of the ways she'd betrayed me. It was impossible for me to be around her any longer. So that night, I sneakily left Tanya, and our residence. I was emotionless as I walked past Tanya sleeping at midnight. Her beauty no longer astounded me as it did the first time I met her. It was shameful, dirty. It'd betrayed me.

She slept soundly as I crept out of the back door, towards the servants' headquarters. The moonlight didn't fail me when I walked into the woods with only money and a change of clothing in my suitcase. A small, dainty thing I carried with me to this house. Of course, now, the money most definitely gone, and my _two_ changes of clothing were the only thing the case held.

I rubbed my temples imagining the riot that my leaving caused. The authorities were infuriated, I assume, for I was their prime suspect. And Tanya. As I think back about her now, I'm glad that my compassion towards her was subtle. She deserved no compassion after what she'd done to me, and I hoped she was in immense pain after I left her. After all, how much could she truly love me if she slept with William?

* * *

Chapter 4 will be up soon! :D


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